


Guiding Star

by Rouqe, Shruikanceta



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Forced Resurrection, Hallucinations, Imprisonment, Mind Manipulation, Odyssey AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 05:12:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16612565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rouqe/pseuds/Rouqe, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shruikanceta/pseuds/Shruikanceta
Summary: “Please, don’t do it”. Her telepathy was no more than a whisper, soft like a breeze.“So you finally talk“. Kayn sneered derisively. “And the first thing you do is beg?” The doors hummed again.“He will kill you!”.





	Guiding Star

**Author's Note:**

> A collaboration piece originally written for the Hitchiker's Guide to the Odyssey, a League of Legend's fanzine dedicated to the Odyssey AU. You can get the zine here: https://leagueofzines.tumblr.com/post/180046065347/leagueofzines-well-hello-morning-star

******I**

12\. Ninth Cycle - Year 114 of the Lightshield Dynasty

  
Protect Life until death.

Sona had learned many suns ago that destiny was not a tight-weaved tapestry made of knots impossible to untangle, but more of a river that was constantly changing its course. Evidently the water would flow over the deepest part of the valleys of life, but there were always two crucial factors that could alter it's path: circumstance and chance.

She lifted her gaze. The room was wide but discouragingly dark and empty. In the air lingered the smell of disinfectant, so pungent that it itched her nose worse than if they had left the floor dirty and stained. There were no windows and the only source of light came from the door, a translucent screen of light neon blue.

Sometimes Sona spent her hours staring at it, letting its subtle shifts and cracking lull her slowly in her meditation, blinding her until she could only see white.

Protect Life until death. For some reason the words kept popping up in her mind, an encouraging litany she could hold onto. Ora's message and wisdom were not always clear, but she had always found it easier to listen and understand than other people. Those words were the last she had heard before she had been dragged there and the voice of ora became an indistinguishable whisper in the distance.

The Templar had heard the warnings but had not expected to end up in a cell of the imperial coreworld, buried under countless layers of glass and isolating alloys. All her partners were gone, either prisoners like her or dead. Subversives like her wouldn’t share the same fate of those cast into the penal colonies. Demaxia deemed them dangerous, capable of converting other inmates into their beliefs.

She was still staring at the door when its energy hummed and dissipated into an incandescent blue fog. She had been waiting. A dissonant sound, but nothing compared to the entropic reverberation of  the ora trapped in _that_ body.

The Ordinal’s shadow stretched upon her, darker than the black metal floor. The scythe’s snath resting on his shoulder had stirred unsettled whispers across the prison (and many other places within the Empire). Even the heavily trained guards outside expected the girl’s execution that day. If not, why was their superior carrying around that scythe?

“You are a lucky one, Sona. I sent my best slingtroopers to escort you into your new home. And I have been benevolent enough to spare you from the most vicious interrogators of the Empire.”

The door flickered to existence behind him once more, locking them inside.

“You are mine. Your secrets are mine.”

But once more those same eyes of mystic gold stared at him, fearless, peaceful. Not a word escaped from Sona's lips. And even though she had been chained to the wall, both her hands immobilized above her head, she still had a dignified aura around her that not even the coldest of prisons could erase.

“Is that contempt what I see in your eyes?” Kayn’s expression changed immediately before her silence. The calm and calculating mask of the Ordinal cracked, his lips twisted in the dark.

“You dare…!?”

A swish cleaved the quiet solitude of the cell. The scythe’s curved edge was now pressed against Sona’s throat, forcing her chin up. The edge was lukewarm, filled with static tickling against her skin. She pressed her lips in a thin line, but otherwise her gaze did not flinch, determined to prove herself stronger than Kayn’s cruelty.

“A girl revered like a sage among the Templars despite her age. A girl who understands the language of silence, spoken in the universe before time was time.” Kayn’s scowl turned into a disdainful grin. “But now, you are _nothing_. Your life and your ora are in my hands.”

**_“No”_ ** **.**

The voice came from nowhere, deep, with an almost liquid ring dragging behind. It echoed, not in the cell but in Kayn’s mind. Sona’s gaze flickered towards the monstrous weapon, as if she had heard it too and knew exactly what it meant.

**_“We need her alive. Don’t forget that”_ ** **.**

‘I know, I know. She is more useful alive than dead. _For now._ ’ Kayn’s thoughts replied as the edge remained dangerously close to the girl’s throat. She couldn’t move, forced to stare into the Ordinal’s golden eye crossed by that glint of insanity.

The first sliver on uneasiness shadowed her gaze. Not because of the man’s words and his impending threat, but for the presence of that other _being_. Weapon, devil. Harbinger.

Kayn’s pleased grin soon faded as he realized that victory didn’t belong to him but to Rhaast.

“What is it, Sona? Do you think I am unworthy of your fear?” Another swish. The scythe was twirled away from her, the blade planted against the metallic floor with a deep clang. A soft sigh escaped the Templar's lips as her neck was free once more.

“I will show you… the price of your insolence.” Kayn lifted his chin arrogantly, already tasting the idea. Sona noticed it. That ugly and inhuman smile.

There was a flicker in the darkness of the cell as the hologram spread before their eyes. It hovered above Kayn’s palm, like a miniature version of the astral portolan in his chambers. The star chart displayed a cluster of asteroids floating between Ionan and its twin suns. Among them, a single planetoid shimmered like an emerald. Shon - X4N. It was one of those rare golden means lost in the circumstellar habitable zone, a single continent of lush farmland crisscrossed by freshwater streams.

“Templar activity has been reported in this region.” At his command, the map expanded, revealing several pulsing dots across the mountainous region.

“Does it look familiar?”

Nothing in her gaze betrayed if it did. Sona stared at the hologram for a few long seconds, then back at Kayn, serene as the blue light was reflected in her golden eyes.

“If there’s a Templar in there I know exactly how to lure him.” Kayn’s eye fell to a heavy-lidded stare. “A planetoid so rich in life…, can you imagine the amount of Ora it contains? Its ecosystems, its wildlife, its inhabitants. I can only wonder for how long the Templar will resist the screams of the very life being drained out of those husks.” Kayn gestured, a small, coin-shaped device clinked across the floor as it still displayed the hologram. He had anticipated her resistance, but not in such way.

“And all thanks to you, Sona.” Kayn turned, walking towards the exit. The Templar could guess the triumphant smile in his voice. Her eyes narrowed almost unnoticeably.

“I will reward that arrogance with the suffering of this planet. And you will witness it”.

“It is too late for this world. But when I return you may reconsider. Cooperate and save the next planetoid, or refuse and their blood will be in your hands. Again.”

For the first time, a display of uneasiness crossed the Templar’s face, quickly masked under her impassiveness but not fast enough to hide from the Ordinal.

“ _Please, don’t do it_ ”. Her telepathy was no more than a whisper, soft like a breeze.

“So you finally talk“. Kayn sneered derisively. “And the first thing you do is beg?” The doors hummed again.

_“He will kill you!”.  
_

* * *

  **II**

13\. Ninth Cycle - Year 114 of the Lightshield Dynasty

  
“Tell me more about this ‘Templar Recluse’...” Kayn demanded, a fist tightening around the Elder’s throat as he held him inches above the ground. The emotions in those eyes were genuine and transparent; the old man was broken. The last soul of his village. Yet, those eyes hid boundless wisdom.

“I will never… tell you”, his voice wavered, weak, pained, and angry. A last act of defiance against the man who ruined them, who would ruin them all.

Against him, the blade twitched, the polished surface undulating hypnotically. Thirsty.

**_“No answers, no forgiveness”_ ** , Rhaast’s voice echoed in Kayn's mind, hungry. **_“Give him to me, harvest his life. Only you are worthy”_ **.

_‘Watch and learn’_ , Kayn’s thoughts jabbed.

“You have failed the test. I was offering you an opportunity.” Kayn stared at the elder with false pity. “To survive, to live, and serve me.  Your knowledge would have been beneficial for my conquest.”

There was a soundless movement, the edge had buried almost slicing the body in half. A  stream of golden liquid energy poured out of the wound and congealed into the globule at the base of the scythe. Drained from the inside, the body still twitched as it was dropped, discarded like a broken doll.

“You should have known your Ora was far more valuable than your words. Don’t you agree, Templar?“ Kayn spun on his heel, the scythe swishing in the same horizontal direction, now aimed at the shadow behind him. He couldn’t determine for how long he had been there watching without intervening. He was being judged.

The man stood still, a few feet away. Kayn knew he was the one he was looking for thanks to the mantle he was wearing, worn-out but still of the same vibrant teal representative of the Templars. If it wasn’t for it, he could have taken him for a simple scavenger: the dark and old photann-proof plate and that mask. Kayn saw it, the faint golden glow hidden underneath. So different from Sona’s temperance, this one burned with hostility.

**“** **_Kill him fast_ ** **,”** growled Rhaast in his mind. He sensed something Kayn could not: an imminent sense of danger. “ **_Before he kills you!_ ** **”**.

_“Nonsense!”_ his thoughts barked in reply.

And then, there was a flash of gold. Kayn sidestepped instinctively, the razor blade missed his neck. The weapon had a brilliant golden glow, an alloy core imbued with pure crystallized ora. He had never seen anything like it.

He couldn't get distracted. A second later, there was a blur of blue, blades pointed at his gut. Kayn twirled the scythe, Rhaast’s blade chiming against the strange weapon as both collided and locked in a struggle. The Templar’s ability and skill were inhuman, but so were his. Kayn’s lips parted and then stretched into a smile, wide and cruelly happy.

“Entertain me!” Kayn took a step forward, his strength advancing against the stranger’s grip. He could see his face reflected in that intimidating mask, inches from his own.

His golden eyes shone under it, the same power Sona had. But unlike the Seer, who seemed to hold unparalleled mercy and wisdom, he only saw a frozen essence in Zed; a cold, ruthless determination. Kayn saw a man who was beyond redemption, a soul so scarred who would not hesitate to commit cruel and violent acts for what he believed.

“No.” He changed his mind a second later as his eye fell to a heavy-lidded stare, insanely glowing with ora. “You will kneel before me. Just like Sona.”

Zed growled. He pushed the blades with an ugly sound, masterfully redirecting the momentum so the scythe’s head plunged into the ground.

“I kneel to no one.” His voice rose, deep and sharp, from the depths of his mask. The weapons he was using were clear now, two golden blades at each arm. Ora. He pointed one of them to the Ordinal, a living throb coursed the metal from the inside. “Speak, dog. What has the Empire done to the Seer?”

“The Empire? Nothing. It was my choice,” retorted Kayn, pride evident in his voice. His hands forced Rhaast out of the dirt and recovered his poise. The weapon hummed with the contact, its core vibrating eagerly.

“Ora manipulated into a solid weapon. How quaint. So this is why you are the feared hermit. I’m certain your comrades consider that a blasphemy. Don’t you agree? You don’t fear turning the sacred ora into a weapon. You are strong, stronger than any of them.”

Kayn dashed at him again, his silhouette blurring before Zed’s eyes. A sweeping flourish came from behind, aimed to slice the templar in half. “I have turned the Voice of Ora into _my weapon_.”

“Fool". A gesture and the Templar was no more, a golden shape in his place. The real one was behind Kayn, both blades bared as he swept them from left to right, his reflection imitating the movement and trapping the Ordinal between them.

It was fascinating. The Templar had surprised him again, his techniques and secrets were superior to any warrior of the Empire. Kayn barely escaped, an acrobatic leap into the alien purple sky. He flipped in the air, the world upside-down before his eyes, his head inches from Zed’s, almost as if he could whisper into his ear. The scythe was falling like a guillotine onto the Templar.

“Join me, let us unlock the power of the Ora Gate”. Time had stopped in his mind, he didn’t feel the slash in his hip, the injury staining his perfectly black uniform.

The blade of the scythe did not cut flesh but the mirage of ora as the templar switched places with it.

“No one should dwell in the mysteries of the Ora Gate. That thing you carry is no Voice. It is turning you into its tool”.

“Rhaast is my weapon, and I am the only one in this universe who can control him.” The impact against the rock unleashed a hailstorm around them, expanding like a wave of destructive force just where the Templar’s image had been standing.

As the dust settled, Kayn’s figure stood alone, superior, the scythe resting on his shoulder.

“Is that your answer, Templar? Fear before the unimaginable power?”

**“** Fear?” There was mockery in his voice as he rose a hand towards the Ordinal. “I am not the one that should be afraid”.

“What?” Kayn stared at his opponent, perplexed by his words and insolence, perplexed by the unsettled vibrations coursing through Rhaast’s snath.

**“** **_Can't you feel it, Kayn? It's in your veins…_ ** **”** The weapon's voice had a mixture of weariness and amusement as his power tickled up his arm. **“** **_You might have something to fear after all_ ** **”.**

The sentence fell heavy on Kayn’s mind, his fingers released the snath, both hands clutching his throat. “W-what’s happening?!” the voice quivered as his body helplessly fell to his knees. His eye wide, the golden iris lost as it stared at the silhouette walking away, doubling, blurring.

An indescribable pain burned his body as if his very blood sizzled and splintered his flesh from the inside. It tugged at his heart like fingers of molten gold.

“The ora,” he muttered before that same substance splattered across the dirt where he knelt.

_“_ **_Curious. He turned your own ora against you. I didn't know mortals could do that_ ** _.”_ Rhaast seemed more amused than worried. He watched his wielder's agony with fascination. _“_ **_Guess you were too weak this time, Kayn_ ** _”._

“Looking for me was the last of your mistakes, Ordinal.” Zed didn't even turn around as he talked. His blue contrasting with the barren grey and the bright lights of fire. “Other Templars might have been merciful. Now choke in your delusions and die”.

**_“Perhaps I should have chosen him instead of you. But he fears me, unlike you, Kayn.”_ **

“Rhaast!” the word dissolved into a gurgle. The golden substance gushed between his fingers as they pressed against his lips. One, two, three heartbeats. Kayn coughed up again, mortally wounded, he was bleeding _ora_.  


* * *

  **III**

15\. Ninth Cycle - Year 114 of the Lightshield Dynasty

  
The glow of the blue star filled the imperial throne as all other light dimmed. The Emperor felt strangely isolated, submerged in that alien underwater cage. Silence filled the corridors, an unnatural stillness possessed the heart of the Locus Armada. The most powerful man of the Demaxian Empire was trapped and alone.

“I’ve taken care of everything, old friend.” The Ordinal was kneeling before the throne, his silhouette outlined against the blue darkness.

Jarvan lifted his eyes and scanned the chamber, severe and tired as he stood up, almost as if it costed him a great effort.

“Is it you, Kayn?” the man said, grave. “You are back victorious, as expected. Come closer, friend, so I can welcome you as you deserve. Tell me, what's happening? Why have all the lights faded out?” He could feel it, an ominous feeling similar to nails digging into his heart. Something was wrong, around them and in the tranquility Kayn seemed to possess.

“The stars are waning, Jarvan. They herald a new era.” Kayn slowly rose to his feet. The eye in the scythe which had been resting horizontally on the floor blinked, as if awakening.

“Can’t you sense them?” Kayn looked up, but his expression was unreadable.

The Emperor hesitated.“What does that mean?” There was concern in his face as his gaze fell onto the weapon staring back at him hungrily as if he was the finest morsel.

“ **_Show him_ **.”

Kayn’s eye closed but when it opened again Jarvan’s throat rested on his shoulder, as if sharing one of those old secrets again. The only thing supporting the Emperor’s body was the scythe’s crest deeply buried into his chest, splitting his heart in half. The gushes of blood glowed with ora, not a single drop wasted, all was absorbed into the golden globule in the scythe’s core.

“Who are you?” Jarvan whispered feebly as the crown of the stars clattered around the metallic floor.

“Your Emperor.” Cracks glowing with darkness spread across the wound, fissures deeper than the fabric of reality, glimpses of unimaginable galaxies flashed beneath. The edge wasn’t exactly killing Jarvan, it was beyond death and comprehension. All that power absorbed into the Scythe now belonged to him. The effulgent energy within his veins was exhilarating.

“ **_Can you feel it, Kayn?_ **” Rhaast’s voice, delighted, echoed in the vastness of the chamber.

“Magnificent!” The stars unwoven before his eyes. It was the power of a god.

“ **_That is my gift for you. Now rise. There’s much yet to be done_ **”.

“Rise?” Kayn repeated, his senses hazed by confusion as he realized the weight of his body slumped on that perfectly black desk. He immediately looked up, a hand to his throat, to his chest. No wounds, but stains. He was alive. Once more the neon glow of the screens displaying data illuminated his face. Somehow, he had returned to the Locus Armada. His mind raced despite the swamp of that nightmare.

On the corner of the room, Rhaast’s core beat like a steady golden heart. He hummed, a strange song that had been lulling him into vivid dreams.

“ **_Well?_ ** ” he asked, as the dissonant melody did not cease. “ **_What have we learned today?_ **”

“That Templar. The Emperor”, Kayn hissed, stabbing Rhaast with a glare. “How did you bring me back to life so easily?!” It was evident now. The creature could distort time, space and life.

“ **_You’d be surprised of the things I can do. Things you might understand if you follow the right path. You died because you didn’t trust me, so I showed you what would happen if you did_ **”.

His body still ached, but the exhilarating power flowing out of Jarvan’s mortal wound erased all. He wanted it.

“What are you?”

“ **_Your guiding star_ **.”


End file.
